


Brewing Romance and Dissent

by Llama1412



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Getting Together, Identity Porn, Injury Recovery, M/M, Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: When a spear to the eye means that Iorveth needs to take at least a year to recover, he decides to spend it undercover in a coffeeshop in Vizima's Royal Quarter. He's also not expecting his favorite customer to be a human.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lutes_and_dandelions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lutes_and_dandelions/gifts).



> So a while back, I went on a spree of taking common trope AUs and somehow setting them in canon. Obviously, I had to do a coffeeshop AU, but then it went and turned into a longfic on me.

“This is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had,” Maeral, one of Iorveth’s best commanders and probably the only reason he had a command to come back to, laughed in his face. “I’m in.”

Iorveth scowled at her. “It’s not stupid. Imadia insists I can’t be in the field while I recover. So why  _ not _ gather intel?”

“Uh huh,” Maeral crossed her arms and smirked. “You realize that opening an elven coffeeshop in Vizima won’t exactly be fun, right?”

Iorveth waved his hand. “Then maybe we’ll finally learn why the fuck any nonhuman would want to live alongside humans.”

“You mean, like we’re going to do?”

He glared at her and she sighed heavily.

“Look, I know you’re annoyed with everyone’s hovering, but you were in a coma for a month, Iorveth. You scared the shit out of all of us. There’s a  _ reason _ everyone thinks you’re dead now.”

Iorveth grimaced. It wasn’t as if he’d  _ asked _ for the spear to the eye. Or to survive it, frankly. But since he had, he absolutely refused to spend his convalescence with the new Scoia’tael recruits gaping at him. 

That was why he’d proposed this idea. It was something he and his commanders had been thinking about for a while: sending spies into Vizima to set up a semi-permanent cover as coffee merchants. The problem was, they lacked anyone willing to go spend a year establishing themselves amongst humans.

Iorveth wasn’t exactly delighted about the prospect himself, but at least if humans stared at him, he could punch them. When it was his own men, he just had to bear it.

Not that he didn’t understand  _ why _ they stared. He was hideous now, his right eye missing and his right cheek all sliced up. He tried to cover it up with his hair, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was.

Iorveth frowned at Maeral, “Imadia is going with me, you know. You don’t have to come if you’re just worried.”

“Of course I’m worried,” Maeral rolled her eyes. “But also, watching you serve coffee to humans is going to be  _ hilarious.  _ Why would I miss that?”

“Gee, thanks.”

Her smirk was mischievous and even though it was at his expense, Iorveth found himself relieved that she wasn’t treating him any differently. Nearly everyone else had been walking on eggshells around him and he was tired of it.

Even Cedric, who should really know how much Iorveth hated it. A hundred years of being involved should mean at least that much, shouldn’t it? Things had been a little awkward since they’d split up maybe two days before Iorveth had lost his eye, but the tentative conversations were not helping the awkwardness.

Iorveth sighed and made a note to talk to Cedric. He had always seemed to have a soft spot for humans – he would be good for this mission. But if Iorveth was going to be stuck working beside Cedric for a year, the walking on eggshells  _ had  _ to stop.

“So…” Maeral began, and Iorveth refocused his attention on her with a hum. “How many people do we need to run a coffee shop?”

“Uh…” 

Okay, perhaps he would need to look into  _ that _ before chatting with Cedric. 

“I’ll find out,” he said. “Why? You got some recommendations?”

“I do,” Maeral grinned. “But before I overwhelm you with suggestions, find out and let me know how many I  _ should _ recommend.”

“Deal,” Iorveth nodded. “So… what else did I miss while I was out of commission?”

Maeral cracked her knuckles and Iorveth was suddenly very, very scared. She laughed at him. “It’s nothing that bad. Just a bit of in-fighting. I think I’ve effectively cowed them by now, but just know that Sylvar and Taredd are banned from the kitchen, the labs,  _ and _ the armory.”

“You know what? I don’t want to know,” Iorveth shook his head. “Thanks for handling things while I was gone.”

“Of course! Though really, Ciaran did the heavy lifting day-to-day stuff.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna have to ask him to keep doing it,” Iorveth huffed. Fortunately, Ciaran, Iorveth’s second in command, was eager to impress and had a head for details. “All right, while we’re figuring all this out, we should go ahead and get to work actually  _ opening _ the shop.”

“Right-o, Boss,” Maeral saluted with a wink and bounced off to get started.

Iorveth shook his head with a sigh. He definitely wanted to follow through on this coffee shop, but the peppier Maeral acted, the more the prospect of human customer service lost its appeal. Maybe he could focus on making the drinks?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vernon Roche visits a new coffee shop.

Vernon Roche was well-known amongst the King’s circle for his coffee-addiction. In fact, several courtiers had attempted to poison him through his coffee, but fortunately, Roche was very good at anticipating attacks on his life. If there was one thing life on the streets had taught him, it was that. Well, that and an ability to make any skill sound marketable and impressive – ‘loner kid everyone hated’ became ‘very good at self-management and collecting information without being noticed’.

At any rate, when Roche had heard about a new coffee shop opening near the royal palace, he was quite excited. Currently, he had to walk four blocks out of his way to get his coffee, and this new place was right on his route to work. 

In fact, on his walk home, Roche discovered that not only was it directly along his path, but also that it was actually open! Just when he was thinking about getting a coffee fix, too.

Roche shouldered the door open and glanced around – only to freeze two steps inside when he realized that the man behind the counter with pointy ears was, in fact, an elf. As in, one of the species that he was supposed to help his King get rid of.

In retrospect, the coffee shop’s name probably should have clued him in:  _ Vrihedd Bean-gade.  _ Who except an elf would name a coffee shop after their notorious Nilfgaardian brigade? He’d been too busy laughing at the pun to actually connect the dots, though, and now he was standing stupidly in the entrance to an elven coffee shop. Shit.

“Are you planning on getting something or are you just loitering?” a brash voice startled him and he jumped, whirling around to look at the elf leaning on the counter. 

“I, uh, is – is elven coffee different at all?” 

“It’s better,” the elf shrugged and didn’t at all seem bloodthirsty or about to attack him. Interesting.

“Uh, okay,” Roche chewed on his lip. The truth was, he had researched elves extensively for his King, but he was fairly sure he’d never had a conversation with one before. How had he never realized that? It seemed like an obvious flaw in his preparation. How could he give his King the most well-rounded opinion on elves if he’d never really spoken with one?

He cleared his throat, stepping forward up to the counter. “Is there anything you’d recommend?”

The elf had half of his face covered by hair, his pointed ears only visible from one side. Was that an elf thing or just a  _ this  _ elf thing?

“Hmm,” the elf tilted his head and looked Roche over, “you look like a cold brew kind of guy.”

Roche blinked. “Uh… sure? I don’t – what  _ is _ cold brew?”

The elf huffed a soft laugh. “It’s a way of preparing the coffee. But the important thing for you is that it’s got a high caffeine content.”

“Sounds perfect,” Roche said immediately, a smile tugging at his lips.

The elf nodded, pouring him an iced drink and passing it over.

Roche took a sip and was surprised by the rich, strong flavor that swept across his tastebuds. “Whoa,” he muttered, “it tastes… good?”

“Uh… yeah? That’s the point?”

He snorted, “not for human coffee, apparently. Fuck, this is amazing.”

The elf smirked, “told you. Elven coffee is definitely superior.”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing, but I am  _ definitely _ agreeing,” Roche said, taking another sip. He glanced up at the elf, who was watching him with an amused expression on his face, and cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks. For the – uh, the recommendation.”

Shrugging, the elf said, “it’s my job.”

Roche looked at the elf consideringly. “Can I ask – ah, but you’re probably busy, just opened and all.”

“No,” the elf said, sounding surprised at himself. “I – uh, that is – it’s really fucking boring. Ask away.”

“Why open an elven coffeeshop in the Royal Quarter? Why not in Old Vizima?”

“In the nonhuman quarter, you mean?” the elf sneered. “Why  _ shouldn’t _ I open a coffeeshop in here? It’s where the good business is.”

“Yeah, but…”  _ will the business go to you? _ If Roche had thought about it beforehand, he probably wouldn’t have.  _ Definitely  _ wouldn’t have, honestly. After all, why would he? Elves were – well,  _ elves.  _

But he would’ve been wrong, Roche realized. If he’d never come in here, he’d never have discovered how good elven coffee was, but  _ also _ that he had such a blindspot in his intel.

The elf huffed. “You dh’oine may despise elves, but you’ve never been tentative about buying our goods.”

Roche tilted his head. That… yeah, that actually sounded about right, actually. After all, even King Foltest’s armor was purchased from dwarven smiths. 

“Do you think this shop will get lots of customers, then?” Roche asked. “I mean, if this drink is any indication, you should be  _ swamped _ in orders.”

The elf chuckled. “We’ll see. Not sure how many will give it a try.” He bit his lip for a moment, then flicked his gaze back to Roche. “Will you be one of our regulars, then?”

Roche took another sip, biting back a wide smile. “Yeah, I think I just might be. I mean, your coffee is –  _ wow.  _ I’d be a fool not to come back for more, right?” He winked before he could think better of it, and he saw the elf’s lips twitch in response.

“I look forward to it.”

“So,” Roche started, looking down and feeling his cheeks aching from his smile, “given the shop is new to Vizima, are you as well?”

“I am,” the elf said. “Why?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “having lived here my entire life, I like to consider myself an expert. And I figure someone new might want a recommendation or two.”

“Oh, you figure, do you?” Iorveth sassed, amusement writ across the exposed half of his face.

“I do indeed. But, I have to admit, my first recommendation to an elf would be a garden. But uh, do you… actually  _ like  _ nature… and… stuff?”

The elf laughed. “I do. What would you recommend, then?”

“Okay, so it’s gonna sound strange, but in the Temple Quarter, the garden in front of St. Ledioda’s Hospital.” The elf gave him a doubtful look and Roche held up a hand, “seriously. It’s so worth it. It’s a medicinal plant garden, maintained by the trainees. It’s got something like sixty different plants and little plaques to describe their medicinal value. It’s pretty cool.”

The elf arched an eyebrow. “I guess I’ll find out if your judgement is to be trusted.”

“Ha! I shall prove it to you!” Roche grinned. “What else do you like, then? I bet you I can give you a recommendation you’ll truly love.”

With a smirk, the elf tilted his head in challenge, “is that a promise?”

“It is,” Roche swore. “So, what kinds of things do you like?”

The elf hummed. “I love music. Does Vizima have performance halls?”

_ “Does _ it? My dear elf, Vizima is  _ the _ place for music in the north. Novigrad and Oxenfurt can pretend they have all the talent, but Vizima has the showcases! You should check out the Vizima Symphony Hall. It’s in the Trade Quarter and supposedly it’s designed with ideal acoustics or something. All I can say is, it sounds good. The city orchestra isn’t bad, either. They do shows pretty constantly, I’m sure you could find something to your liking.”

“Hmm. I suppose I shall have to venture out and confirm what you say.”

“You do that,” Roche grinned. “And once you’re reassured, I’ll be back with more recommendations.”

The elf snorted. “I suppose I shall see you then.”

“Count on it,” Roche winked, taking another sip of coffee and finally heading home, satisfied with his caffeine fix  _ and  _ the new shop. 

He already wanted to go back. 


End file.
